Hitoshii Kawase
by ariadne-chan
Summary: What happens after the mischievous fairy Lili casts a spell to make Tsuchiura Ryoutarou and Tsukimori Len switch bodies? One word: Armageddon. Life, Friends, Family, Instruments, Love. Complication personified. In the end, who would Hino Kahoko choose?
1. Attack of the Sparrow

"If you could only see Hino the way I see her now, maybe you would quit acting like a self-centered jerk and start taking a good look at her."

—

**Chapter One - Attack of the Sparrow**

"Damn you!"

Lili grudgingly opened an eye and hovered above his leaf-bed. He looked around defensively, afraid that birds had come to attack and had just caught him unawares—he was about to cast a spell to prevent them from doing so, when he remembered that what he just heard was unmistakably a voice. _Humans._ Being the ever curious and mischievous fairy that Lili quite prided himself as, he floated towards the direction of the commotion. He carefully inched away from the nest of the violent sparrow family that had attacked him the night before and pushed past the leaves of a Kusunoki tree. Finally, he reached the soon-to-be-scene-of-the-crime.

It was mid-afternoon, and Lili had been enjoying the quiet that the garden provided. He didn't feel particularly happy with the afternoon's noise, but figured that a bit of action wouldn't hurt anyone, either. He was beginning to contemplate on his contradicting nature when, seemingly out-of-the-blue, tall figures of two boys rushed past him, missing his right wing by inches. Disconcerted and somewhat scandalized, he hid behind a particularly fat twig and peeked.

Lili grinned in anticipation as he recognized two of the former concours participants. He had designated a code name for them—all of them, actually, for their names had proven to be quite a mouthful. Of course, _he_ had been responsible for Mr. Green's half-hearted participation, but his talent seemed such a waste, buried underneath his soccer team uniform. Lili assessed the 'aggravated party,' and his smile turned into a thoughtful frown. For a start, Lili was quick to note, he didn't seem the slightest bit aggravated—rather, the tall, slim, pretty boy who played the violin looked merely bored. Lili wondered whether the violinist who carried himself like a member of the royal family lacked facial muscles—he can't remember ever seeing the boy display the faintest trace of emotion. _Boring._

He settled down a leaf to eavesdrop on the heated argument. Well, 'heated' on the taller boy's part.

"—but a hypocrite! You've got some nerve, talking about things you know nothing about! And to think that you don't have anything to do with her—"

"_You_ have nothing to do with it," the other boy snapped in a calm monotone, but something in the way he uttered the words suggested mounting impatience. "_I_ can't even see what you are getting all worked up for," he continued. He stood with hands folded arrogantly in front of his chest, his face an expressionless mask. Mr. Green was everything to the contrary. He was hyper like an enraged, color-blind bull, ready to charge.

"I can't see why you're being incessantly rude to Hino, either!" he spat. "Hell, I can't _even_ understand why she's trying to be civil with you!"

Mr. Blue only raised an eyebrow that apparently was to be interpreted as some sort of response, and to which the pianist added hastily, "Well—she's—she's only trying to be kind! She's—I mean—she's like that, eh?"

"This," the violinist exhaled, "is an utter waste of time. You do realize that I have better things to attend to other than discuss senseless arguments, no?"

"Senseless!" The pianist's temple nerves throbbed dangerously and Lili actually feared for the boy's life. With a temper like his...he tried to calculate Mr. Green's life expectancy and made a face.

_'So this is all about Hino Kahoko,'_ Lili deduced. The girl was the only one who had been able to see, let alone hear, the music fairy. Convinced of her potential despite her claim that she had _never_ even touched a musical instrument in her life, he went ahead and presented her with a magical violin. Her struggles had been most prevalent after being chosen as one of the concours participants, and problems arose rife after the strings had snapped. Nevertheless, she had finally come to terms with her love for music and the violin, and he was more than pleased with her determination to become a better musician. He looked forward to her progress as a classical violinist. With the red-haired girl in mind, he eyed the boys again and smiled mischievously. A practical joke began to brew inside his head.

"You call that senseless, you—you selfish jerk? Can't you see how hard she's driving herself just to catch up with the others? Her playing isn't up to par, yes, and she for some reason depends on you for guidance but even _that_ doesn't give you any right to humiliate her in front of all those conference participants. You have no right to put her down. Can you imagine how she feels right now?"

"Are you done? I should be practicing now."

Lili winced as Mr. Green charged angrily at Mr. Blue. He grabbed the other boy by the collar of his immaculate blazer and slammed him against a tree.

"Aren't you concerned about anything but that damned practice? You make me feel ghoulish!"

"Don't flatter yourself," Mr. Blue snapped impatiently. "You're nothing so impressive as a ghoul."

"Why you—" Mr. Green narrowed his eyes in anger. "What you are is a bloody ass. You're not taking me seriously, are you? Well, after I break your face, perhaps you will."

The violinist's face was strangely blank; surely he didn't miss the menace in the other boy's threat? Lili raised a hand frantically to stop them from hitting each other but before he could make a tiny wave of his wand, the pianist's fist froze mid-strike. There was tension in the air as the two boys glared arrogantly at each other.

"Tch," said Mr. Green as he reluctantly released his grasp on the other boy. Lili exhaled in relief—he had the sense not to invite more in the way of trouble, after all. The latter, having shown no signs of violence, merely brushed his shoulder off and smoothed his blazer down. "Hino's better off without you," Mr. Green went on, "Who do you think you are, acting all high and mighty?"

"I throw that back at you."

_'What a sharp tongue,' _giggled the fairy even as the pianist's eyebrows twitched. He took a deep breath and sighed. After a while, he folded his arms in front of his chest and looked away.

"If you could only see Hino the way I see her now, maybe you would quit acting like a self-centered jerk and start taking a good look at her. People might tell you otherwise, Tsukimori, but you are nothing but a sad excuse for a human being, and you can always trust me to cherish _every_ misconception I had about you."

And with that, he stalked out of the place.

_'Eh, little event is over?'_

Lili pouted and settled down a branch to try and make sense of the conversation he had just heard. Why would people, the virtuoso violinist and the amazingly talented pianist in particular, argue over as simple a matter as a _girl? _Why would Mr. Green defend her so zealously against her critics? And why would—at this point Lili had turned to the general direction of the blue-haired boy absently—why, no, _what_—what would make the stoic violinist look _confused?  
_

_ 'What on _Earth_ is going on?'_

The boy stood there for a long time, apparently lost in thought. It was then that a brilliant plan flashed through the fata's mind. His powers didn't have limitations, after all, and the fact that he _is _a music fairy didn't mean that he can't play around with his magic a bit. He grinned impishly at his evil idea and flew back to the company of the blooms and trees.

Moments later, Seiso Gakuen heard the bell toll on its own—for the second time.

—

**I have just finished re-reading all of my stories and I have to admit that I have seriously screwed up, (both grammatical and plot-wise) especially in the multi-chaptered stories. I _knew_ I had to revise my works sooner than later and finish what I have started. I owe my readers that much. So, to the people who had taken the time to read and review, I cannot thank you enough. The next chapter should be up fairly soon, and, as always, all constructive feedback is welcome.**


	2. Dummy Flypaper

"That is senseless, seeing as you're _me_ already. Finding oneself in this wretched state doesn't dictate that one should waste time in pointless musings. I suggest that you go to my class as I attend yours and both of us are going to act accordingly until we figure out what happened to us."

Ryou paused as he processed Tsukimori's 'speech.' Fifty-two words all in all. What an accomplishment. Despite the fact that he _hated _being told what to do, Ryou nodded in agreement. The plan, after all, was unarguably logical.

—

**Chapter Two - Dummy Flypaper**

Tsuchiura Ryoutarou scrunched his eyes shut as he awoke to the feel of a splitting headache and a bad taste in his mouth. He slowly sat up as he tried to get oriented and realized that by the way the sun streamed through the windows of his room, it was already late for an early jog. He crawled painfully out of the bed—it sure felt like someone was hacking his brains apart. He scowled and made a mental note never to stay up late to vent his frustrations on the grand piano again. His eyes were still closed as he slowly dragged himself across the room to his study table.

He ran a hand through his hair and yawned. Weird, but did his hair feel soft and silky right there?

_Tch._

What he needed were a couple of headache tablets to soothe the pulsating pain on the side of his head. Now if he could only get his hands on his trusty large, red container of medicine...

Ryou groped on the table, and made to grope again. His fingers only had to make contact with the unusually smooth surface of the table to realize that it was empty. He briefly wondered whether his mother had already cleared the messy table for him—he had been putting off cleaning his room for days now, after all. He grunted, determined to at least find the container, and so he force-opened his eyes.

The sight of Tsukimori Len's dishevelment jolted him back to life.

—

Tsukimori Len tried to focus on the character he'd been assigned to work on—it ticked him that a minor character stood in the way of his Literature Class term paper's progress.

In the third futile hour, Len detected the difficulty; it had been so long since he had seen a real live butler—and it was during a family trip to England five years earlier—that it was like trying to bring a Tyrannosaurus Rex to life.

The situation obviously called for research, and, after he made a haggard mental note to start looking for a specimen—assuming the breed was not extinct—Len collapsed on his bed.

He had no sooner than closed his eyes, it seemed, than the alarm clock brought him up with a leap. He frowned. He had last used an alarm clock when he was aged ten. He woke up everyday at five o'clock, give or take a few minutes, with enough time for preparations and short practice.

Still frowning, his eyes roamed the room. He jumped out of the bed which was quite uncharacteristic of him and approached a messy table containing what seemed like scattered books, notebooks, scores, a large red container and litter.

He staggered in front of a mirror and found himself blinking out at a tall, broad-shouldered boy with golden eyes and messy, dark green hair.

Tsukimori Len gaped at the reflection, rooted to the spot.

—

Hino Kahoko panted heavily as she ran up the stairs on her way to Seiso Gakuen. She paused to regain normal breathing, and then berated herself for even _considering _taking a rest when she only had a little over twenty minutes before her first subject started. She slept late, as usual, and had missed the bus, _again. _She clutched her violin case tightly on one hand, and gripped the school bag heavy with books and mountains of scores on the other. Maybe she would get lucky and find a bus. With a deep breath, she took off.

Fate looked down on her, it seemed. She ran all the way to Seiso Gakuen, and, finally, rushed past the double gates to the cobbled path that led to the school's main lobby. Kahoko breathed a sigh of relief. Not only did she make it on time—she still had ten minutes to spare to compose herself.

Quite conscious of her dishevelment, Kahoko straightened her winter uniform and attempted rather unsuccessfully to tame her hair. She gulped a mouthful of cold air, tried to steady her pulse and walked towards the statue of Lili where, curiously enough, there leaned the tall figure of Tsuchiura Ryoutarou.

"Tsuchiura-kun!" she called brightly and waved. "Good morning! We're going to run late, though! Let's head to the Gen-Ed building together!"

The smile on her face froze, and Kahoko blinked.

'_Did Tsuchiura-kun just turn his head to the other direction?'_ Unconvinced of this, she shrugged her thoughts away and opted to approach the pianist instead.

"Tsuchiura-kun?" she inquired with another polite smile. "Are you waiting for someone?"

He made no effort to respond, and his eyes were set on the direction of the gate. His lips were pressed together, his jaw clenched and tight.

"Tsuchiura-kun? Are you alright?"

"Why don't you mind your own business?" he snapped without even looking at her, his voice sharp as knife. "Get going already."

"I—well—" she stuttered as she took a step back, quite surprised at his brusque reply. "I—I'm sorry, Tsuchiura-kun!" she apologized hastily. Warmth flooded her cheeks and she automatically looked around them. She caught sight of Tsukimori Len taking large strides towards their direction, and she felt her heart in her throat. Rather than risk an insult to injury, Kahoko took a quick bow and ran to the direction of the General Education Department building.

—

"I—I'm sorry, Tsuchiura-kun!"

Ryou watched as Hino fled the scene, and, enraged, he took larger strides towards the other boy's direction. He had just recovered from the painful pounding in his head, and the scene he had just witnessed was enough to give him another bout of headache.

"You're dead, Tsukimori." he growled viciously. "Would you care to explain what this racket is all about?"

Tsukimori Len—God knows it was disconcerting enough to try and have a decent conversation with the Ice Cube in the first place, but it was even more bewildering to address himself as _another _person—no, no, he struggled to stop himself from trying to make sense of the whole situation, and proceeded to confront the violinist.

To his utter disbelief and fury, Tsukimori Len only shrugged.

"I..." he spat, and Ryou wondered how someone could sound so menacing with a single word spoken, "...do not want to acknowledge this any more than you do, but I, somehow, woke up this morning, in this dire state."

"What do you mean, 'in this dire state?'" barked Ryou. "This is downright impossible! How are we going to explain this to everyone?"

"Speak for yourself," Tsukimori spat in disgust. "Who knows."

"But this is—this is madness! Tch! I would trade with Yunoki-senpai _anytime._ But _you_—who would want to walk in your—"

"That is senseless, seeing as you're _me_ already," Tsukimori cut in. "Finding oneself in this wretched state doesn't dictate that one should waste time in pointless musings. I suggest that you go to my class as I attend yours and both of us are going to act accordingly until we figure out what happened to us."

Ryou paused as he processed Tsukimori's 'speech.' Fifty-two words all in all. What an accomplishment. Despite the fact that he _hated _being told what to do, Ryou nodded in agreement. The plan, after all, was unarguably logical.

"But what about our instruments and—"

By then Tsukimori was a good ten giant steps away from where he originally stood.

Ryou exhaled in irritation and disbelief. "You did _not_ just do that."

"No? Very well, watch me do it again." the violinist replied patronizingly. "We would talk later. Run along now, you don't want to be late."

As much as Ryou hated being told off, Tsukimori was right. The situation had to be attended to, one way or another, and so he turned away without a word. Their heads filled with thoughts piling one on top of the other, the boys headed off to different directions.

—

"Good morning, Tsukimori-kun!"

Ryou's head snapped up at the direction of the greeting. Two girls in white blazers stood on his left, and the pair had just taken a short bow in greeting. Courtesy dictated that he respond politely, but since he wasn't sure whether the real Tsukimori would do so in such a situation, he merely nodded and entered the classroom.

His eyes roamed the spacious room.

_'Tch. Surrounded by snobs. Great. And now...just where am I supposed to sit...'_ he thought distractedly.

Someone tapped his shoulder.

"Oi, Tsukimori. Let's get seated. Nodami-sensei will be here any minute."

Ryou blinked as he followed the mouse-haired boy towards their seats. As the minutes passed by and no one approached him, he felt less edgy and relief washed over him. Tsukimori had quite a reputation—no one bothered him in his solitary seat. _'Hah. I'd just act all icy. It shouldn't be so hard on my part,' _he sighed. _'Damn that Tsukimori. Tch.'_

_He stared wide-eyed at his reflection. No, Tsukimori's reflection. He raised his right hand awkwardly and Tsukimori did just that._

_"No way," he muttered under his breath. He blindly looked around. He was inside a_ very_ tidy room with simple blue curtains, a modest bed with blue sheets and covers, a single pillow, a music stand and a vintage-looking lamp shade on top of a small bedside table. His eyes settled on the study table in front of him; the one with the mirror. The surface was empty. He gripped the drawers and pulled them out, one by one. Mountains of scores. Several notebooks. Scores. Scores. Keys. Books. Exasperated, Ryou ransacked the closet. The clothes were folded and stacked neatly, arranged by color; by occasion. Tsukimori's uniform was neatly hung on the left, followed by his casual clothes, then the formal suits. Ryou let out a quick breath. '_This couldn't be real,'_ he thought. Even the shoes were arranged sprucely on the bottom drawer. He slammed the closet shut with a loud thud and circled the bed uneasily. On its side lay a school bag and a violin case._

'Great. Now to find his cell phone to make a quick call home...'

_Ryou slammed the bag on the floor. He found stacks of scores and notebooks. A small case of expensive pens he did find, but no cell phone. He sighed in frustration._ 'I can't believe that Tsukimori doesn't keep a cell phone! What the hell? Is he _even_ human?'

_He sprang up, rushed to the bedside table and opened the lone drawer. He fetched a handsome leather wallet and sifted through the contents. He found several credit cards, IDs, local as well as international theatre backstage passes, and cold, abundant cash._

_Despite the impossibility of the situation, Ryou grinned. He placed the bag, the wallet and the violin case on top of the bed and paced around the room. Finally he noticed a door beside the closet and pulled it open._

_"A bathroom!" he staggered backwards. "That slimy rich bastard," he concluded, and he shook his head even as he smiled ruefully. It was going to cost him dearly, he knew, but in the end decided that while he's at it, he might as well take on the comforts of Tsukimori's home._

"—and that concludes our lesson on the status of women during the Heian period. You would be handing in your papers the day after tomorrow, and I fully expect you to complete your opinions and conclusions regarding the concentration of canonical writings by women from said period that has inevitably drawn interest from feminist and other gender studies critics. Alright, that would be all."

Hah. He had survived a subject without incident. Ryou waited for his classmates to settle down their seats, and, as soon as the teacher had left for his next class, stood up and politely excused himself from the room. He shook his head distractedly as he headed down the hall.

_'What the hell?'_

—

"Tsuchiura!" a yellow-haired boy called loudly from the other end of the corridor. Tsukimori Len frowned and stiffened—he intended to pass it off like he had not heard anything, but the boy was persistent. He struggled to catch up and match his pace. Len sighed. Tsuchiura _had _friends, another complication.

"Eh? What's that sigh for? Oh, I know. It's Hino, right?" the boy winked at him conspiratorially.

"Hino?" he asked, immediately irritated.

"I keep on telling you, Tsuchiura, I can help you with the girl! She's in my class, after all."

"I. Don't. Need. Help."

"Stingy. Ahaha, of course. Tsuchiura prefers to work on his girls alone, doesn't he?" the boy chuckled and wagged his eyebrows at him. "Oi, look out!"

Len lifted his eyes. Hino Kahoko rushed on the corridor as she fumbled on her school bag and behind her, struggling to catch up, were her General Education friends.

"Oi, Kaho!" a dark grey haired girl warned. "Kaho—Kaho!"

Too late. She collided with Len with such a force that she slipped and toppled backwards. Her friends gasped and tried to catch her as she fell but Len was quick to lean down to catch her by the waist.

He obligingly helped her up, more out of annoyance that they were in such an uncompromising situation and wanted to be away from the rest of them sooner than later, rather than an actual need to help her, he thought wryly. He took a step back as soon as she was back on her feet.

"Ow. That was quite a slip," Hino Kahoko muttered apologetically. "Thank you, Tsuchiura-kun," she added, red in the face. "Um—Sasaki-kun, good morning."

_'Tsuchiura.'_ Irritated, Len inched away from her without saying anything. Sasaki, his face clouded with disbelief, jogged to follow him.

"Whoa, Tsuchiura. That's one point for you! Why didn't you talk to her?"

"We have nothing to talk about."

"Nothing? But that's—" he paused, and Len let out another sigh as the boy placed a hand over chin and grinned wickedly. "Oh, you cunning playboy! I get it!"

"What?" Len asked, a frown on his face.

"Ahaha, I know what you're up to. Don't think for a minute I'm not as well-versed with women as you are, big boy. I _know_ you're going to pretend you don't like her anymore! Girls ignore you when you're all over them. Take off, and then they'll suck up to you more. That's the idea, right? Well, I'm telling you, Tsuchiura, it's a brilliant one!"

Len sighed in frustration. The thought never even crossed his mind. He began to wonder whether he was a fly-paper for dummies. He reached the end of the corridor and entered the classroom without so much as a nod. Confused, Sasaki Junnosuke headed back to Class 3-5.

—

**tadaa~~ yes, nie, we can do this! revisions can be fun, eh? ^-^  
**


	3. The Ice Cube

"What's wrong with Tsuchiura?"

"Is he competing with Tsukimori for the Ice Cube title?"

"God, what horror—er, honor."

"Keh."

—

**Chapter Three – The Ice Cube**

"Kaho-chaaaaaaan!"

Hino Kahoko paused and inclined her head a little to the left as the familiar cheerful sound of her senpai's voice reached her ears. She grinned widely and waved back at him.

"I'm glad to see you, Hihara-senpai," she offered. "I haven't seen much of you lately."

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, "you know how depressing people's expectations can be. I've been working double-time, I don't even have much time for practice, let alone a basketball match with aniki. Ah, at least, winter break's here! I can finally enjoy a break."

"A much deserved break, Hihara-senpai. But don't be so hard on yourself, alright?"

Hihara gazed at her fondly, and Kahoko innocently stared back. To her surprise, her senpai's cheeks flushed the lightest shade of red.

"Senpai? Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

He cheekily put his arms behind his back and cocked his head to one side. "Heh heh, nah, don't mind me, Kaho-chan. Well—yay! I almost forgot! Kanayan asked us former concours participants to meet at the staff room. He said he's got some news for us."

Kahoko's face brightened. It had been quite some time since she had last gathered with her former fellow concours participants. "Really? That's great! I really missed Fuyuumi-chan! And I haven't seen much of Shimizu-kun, either! Oh, he's gotten so tall," she said eagerly then added, "When would the meetings be held, senpai? And at what time?"

"Waaaaaaah!" he wailed in a typical apologetic Hihara fashion. "'Been so excited about it that I totally forgot to—waaaah! I'm so sorry, Kaho-chan! Wait—I'll go check on him and ask—I'll be back in a jiffy—"

"Wait, Hihara-senpai—"

By then the anxious figure of the trumpet-player turned into a corridor and vanished from view.

Kahoko chuckled and moved forward to place her hands on the edges of a large window situated at the end of the corridor. _'Really, Hihara-senpai,' _she thought fondly and gazed at the patches of green below, the miracles of nature not lost on her. She squinted to examine the bright yellow flowers that dominated the school garden, when out of the corner of her eyes she caught a hazy blur of green. She gently placed her school bag and violin case on the clean floor and waved.

"Tsuchiura-kun!"

The pianist raised his head. A full five seconds passed and when no recognition or acknowledgment in any way, shape or form came, Kahoko resumed waving, this time calling out louder for good measure.

"Tsuchiura-kuuuuuuun!"

The soccer player exhaled loudly in exasperation. He headed to the opposite direction, back to where he came from. Confused and somewhat hurt, Kahoko jogged to catch up with him.

She cut up in front of Tsuchiura, blocked his way and bowed deeply.

"Tsuchiura-kun. If there ever was something I said or something I did wrong—something you didn't like—please, er, forgive me. Whatever that was, I didn't mean it."

Her head remained bowed down as she waited for his reply. Kahoko looked up in dismay. He had turned his back on her!

"It's not about you," he muttered. "Head up."

"Does that mean I'm forgiven?" she exclaimed in delight.

"Take it however you like. Excuse me."

"KAHO-CHAN! OI, TSUCHIURA!"

Irritation crossed Tsuchiura's features, and Kahoko frowned in confusion. _'I thought they were buddy-buddy.' _

"Kaho-chan?" Hihara inquired, "You seemed to have left your bag and violin case over there—"

"Ah, er—" she fumbled with her words. "Thank you, senpai. Did you manage to talk to Kanazawa-sensei?"

"Yep!" he replied cheerfully. "_'Gather your concours friends for a meeting today, at the staff room, five in the afternoon. '_ That's what he said."

"What for?" snapped Tsuchiura.

"I don't know, he didn't elaborate. You know how feisty Kanayan is."

"Ah! Can't you guess what it's about, senpai?" Kahoko asked brightly. "Maybe the meeting would be about another performance! Perhaps the school's planning on hosting—"

"Excuse me," cut in the pianist curtly, and without another word, stalked off.

"That was weird," muttered the light green-haired trumpet player. He scratched the back of his head absently and grinned at Kahoko, something that he meant for her to take as an apology on the pianist's behalf. He began to engage her in a conversation to cover up for Tsuchiura's sudden departure but Kahoko, deep in thought, only gazed at Tsuchiura's retreating back with concern. She was prepared to offer help, in any way that she could, for Tsuchiura to deal with whatever it was that had been bugging him. Now, if only she could get him to talk.

—

"Everybody here? No? Not yet? Alright, let's spare them five minutes," declared the ever jolly Kanazawa-sensei. He popped a cigarette in his mouth and fumbled for the lighter in his pockets.

"Please," said Tsuchiura.

Kanazawa glanced at his unlit cigarette and then eyed the boy in astonishment. "You mind, Tsuchiura?"

"Since you've decided on taking our time, you might as well get on with it already," the pianist snapped coldly. Everyone turned their heads in his direction. Now_ that_ was weird. As far as 'everyone' was concerned, Tsuchiura was conservative and generally untalkative, but he did not have a habit of rudely snapping at people like the way he just did. Tsukimori cleared his throat loudly, making for a double confusion. Five sets of eyes fixed their gazes on the two, and Kanazawa eyed them with an amused expression on his face.

It was then that Hihara and Hino burst inside the room. Both were panting, and their sudden presence somewhat eased the tensed atmosphere.

"Why are you late?" inquired Yunoki, who had been twirling a lock of hair in his finger.

"Ehh! I bumped into Hihara-senpai on my way here, and then I remembered I forgot the violin case under my chair! We had to run back and get it. Wah! I'm sorry, Hihara-senpai. Sorry, guys."

"No matter, no matter," waved Kanazawa-sensei and watched as Hino and Hihara seated themselves down. He threw Tsuchiura a particularly nasty look and announced, "Ahem, some people here aren't willing to wait, and as I shouldn't be one to waste their precious time, here goes the announcement. The school board had decided on inviting previous concours participants for a one-week Winter Training Camp. Seiso Gakuen is hosting another festival next year, and you are expected to participate. What about it, guys?"

"Whoops! Another Training Camp!" exclaimed a delighted Hihara. His joy was contagious; it elicited a smile from the rest of his students. "It would be fun! I'm definitely in!"

"Winter Training Camp..." said Shimizu, taking his time to utter the words. "I would love to go, sensei..."

"How about you, Fuyuumi?"

"O-of c-course, s-sensei..." she replied shyly, bypassing red and turning maroon.

"Great!" exclaimed Hino. "I'm in as well!"

"In that case," chipped Yunoki, "I don't see why I shouldn't go." He shot a friendly glance at the redhead who pointedly looked away.

Only two of his students are left undecided, and Kanazawa wasn't going to let them spoil the one week vacation he had been really looking forward to.

"Well?" he prompted as he cast Tsuchiura and Tsukimori a malicious glance.

Tsuchiura folded his arms arrogantly in front of his chest.

"Is this compulsory?"

"No, it's not."

"Hn."

"You should be thankful. It's an all-expense-paid-by-the-school trip. This would help you guys hone your skills blah blah blah and you'd be enjoying at the same time. Lame-ass Director said it would be held at the Kanto Prefecture. Or did he say Kansai or Kyushu?" he asked himself distractedly.

"We're all going, Kanay-Kanazawa-sensei," said Tsukimori politely but firmly. "Do you still have any announcements to make?"

"That's all, I guess."

"I would like to leave now. I still have practice to do."

With that, he stood up and headed for the door, leaving his fellow concours participants conversing and discussing the camp in cheerful tones. Yunoki stood up after a while, however, and excused himself.

"I'm afraid I have to go ahead, everyone. I have got to help entertain our house guests. Hihara?"

"Oh, alright, see ya round, Yunoki. I still have Oke pratice after this, so I'll be staying here for a while. Gotta catch up with my kouhais here," Hihara said, and he winked playfully at Fuyuumi and Kahoko.

Tsuchiura stood up, gathered his things and left without a word. Their gazes followed his broad back out of the room.

"What's wrong with Tsuchiura?"

"Is he competing with Tsukimori for the Ice Cube title?"

"God, what horror—er, honor."

At their sense's remark, the rest of the students laughed.

"Keh."

—

**"After months of going crazy**  
** There was nothing left to say."**

**- Jimmy Buffett**


	4. So Not Touching His Underwear

Tsukimori Len opened Tsuchiura's messy closet, wrinkled his nose in distaste and proceeded to find something suitable for dinner. He picked a freshly-laundered towel and took a quick shower at the bathroom he noticed downstairs. Back to the confines of the pianist's room, he pulled a package from within his schoolbag. There was no way he was going to touch Tsuchiura's underwear. Len grimaced. Perish the thought.

—

**Chapter Four - So Not Touching His Underwear**

In a mood of exasperation at circumstances that were not of his making and over which he had no real control, Tsukimori Len sighed. He rummaged inside his schoolbag, fetched the key to the front gate and stepped on the lawn. Tsuchiura had instructed him to keep to himself and steer clear of the family as was possible. His family was used to his mood swings, the pianist had said, that acting his part wouldn't be much of a problem and that it certainly wouldn't cause much suspicion if he acted indifferently.

"Welcome home, Ryoutarou. You're early today."

Len froze, arms suddenly rigid on his side. Tsuchiura's mother stood on the hallway, hands filled with flowers she intended to place on an antique vase. His pulse raced, and, unsure of what to do, he bowed down deeply.

"Thank you, ok—okaasama."

The middle-aged woman's eyes widened in surprise.

"Ryou! What? Okaasama?" she asked, confused. "What are you being so formal for? Enough of this—hurry up and get dressed. Dinner would be in an hour."

Len bowed down shortly and headed up the only refuge he could see: the stairs. He shook his head. Things had proved harder than they originally seemed. He had no trouble adjusting to Tsuchiura's classes, however. Good thing they were both second years.

_'Good thing, huh.'_

The situation worried him to no end, but Len is a practical guy. As a violinist, he knew that things, like the order of performances or even the repertoire itself, can change in a second, and therefore he believed and practiced quick-thinking and adjusting to whatever the situation had called for. Moping around was simply out of the question. It just irritated him that of all the people he could trade bodies with, it had to be the arrogant pianist. What a joke. Finally, he reached the top step of the stairs.

It was then that something hard collided with the side of his head.

Quite disgruntled, Len looked up. Ryou's older sister loomed over him, and she held in her hands a thick, glossy magazine. By the look of the thing, she had just hit him with it. Len wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Ryoutarou, you insensitive bull," she declared as she waved the magazine about, "what were you banging against that piano for? Don't you realize that you live with _two_ other people in this house? People who _needed_ sleep? You kept me up until, what, four in the morning!"

Len shook his head disdainfully. He had just gotten whacked in the head for a crime he did not commit.

"What, you dare deny it?"

"I'm terribly sorry, on—oneesama. Please excuse me," he replied, letting out an exhausted sigh. "I will not do it again."

Stunned into silence, she stepped aside to let him pass. Len moved forward on the short hallway and mentally cursed himself for not asking Tsuchiura where his room was situated beforehand. He passed a door that was painted pink and was ignored. Next came a door with a "Don't disturb, I'm disturbed enough already" poster plastered against the flat surface. Probably the younger brother's. Len pressed on, frustrated, but determined to get into the right door. He sighed for what seemed like the umpteenth time, then grabbed and twisted the knob on the door at the end of the hallway.

The door swung open for him, and he stared at a state-of-calamity-proclamation-worthy scene that was Tsuchiura's room.

Len took another deep breath and stepped inside. He placed the violin case carefully on the foot of the bed, having managed to get it from Tsuchiura after waiting half an hour outside the school gate. He had said it before—there is _no_ way he could afford to miss practice just because of some stupid and unexplainable occurrence. He opened the pianist's messy closet, wrinkled his nose in distate and proceeded to find something suitable for dinner. He picked a freshly-laundered towel and took a quick shower at the bathroom he noticed downstairs. Back to the confines of the pianist's room, he pulled a package from within his schoolbag. There was no way he was going to touch Tsuchiura's underwear. Len grimaced. Perish the thought.

He cleaned the room, if only for his well-being. He dusted the tables, folded the clothes, swept the floor and basically tidied everything up. He collected Tsuchiura's notes and scores and piled them neatly inside a drawer. Everything not needed he then placed on a box underneath the bed.

There was a knock on the door, and Len stood up to wrench it open.

"Oi, Ryou, Mom said to come down—" Ryou's sister gasped after getting a fill of the room. She raised a hand to his forehead and trilled, "Are you sick, Ryou? You've finally decided to clean up your room after several Jurassic years! Ahaha, I'm telling Mom!"

She rushed back down the stairs without any further ado.

Tsukimori Len raised a hand to his eyes. He had never felt more exhausted in his life.

What a mess to get into.

—

Tsuchiura Ryoutarou blinked and stared at the exquisite dinner the chef had prepared for him. He had asked for a French cuisine as a joke, expecting something like spaghetti or whatever French-sounding food anyone might dream of but he surely hadn't anticipated the many plates now served in front of him.

"Mousseline de saumon, sir," the chef declared politely. After a while Ryou had finally taken note of his mouth, hanging open, promptly snapped it shut, and scowled. _Geez._

As far as he was concerned, everything had been going well on his side. Tsukimori's parents were still abroad for a series of concerts, and the guy's grandparents had gone cruising somewhere in the Caribbean. He was left with a maid that attended to his every need, the family chef, and then the chauffeur. Ryou had been surprised with the knowledge of the driver—he had assumed that Tsukimori walked to and from school everyday like every average student. As it turned out, he had insisted on being dropped and picked off several blocks from the school and then walks the rest of the way.

Ryou had marveled at Hamai Misa's prefectly tuned grand piano and wasted no time in playing to his heart's content. He worried about the next day's soccer practice, though. The Christmas season is looming in his near future, and so are the Winter Games. What would happen after Buchou and Sasaki learns he wouldn't be able to play? They would kill him, and he is never going to hear the end of it.

_Christmas. _He sighed. They had better find a solution to their problems soon. It would be bad not to spend the holidays with his family, and then even more odd if he left the house to join the Tsuchiuras, wouldn't it?

_Hino. _And with that thought he heaved another sigh. He could not risk talking to her, or people would get suspicious. He had tried to distance himself from her but somehow it didn't feel right, what with Tsukimori doing what he does best—making her feel down. _He_ was supposed to make her feel alright. If he'd traded with Yunoki-senpai there would hardly be a problem. He was beginning to appreciate the perks of being a Yunoki when the thought of his senpai's grandmother and their traditional upbringing made him change his mind.

He had taken a lengthy inspection on the Tsukimori mansion after dinner. The vast lawn boasted a good-sized swimming pool. _A swimming pool. _The trees beyond them were decorated with fancy, tiny lights which looked very beautiful during the night. The garden was filled with rare orchids, tended by Hamai Misa herself. In her absence, Ryou soon learned, a gardener dropped by every other day to take care of them.

He lounged at the lanai for a while and enjoyed the breeze. His back and neck ached, and, as he shifted to his side, the sight of the water met his eyes. Maybe several laps would help him get a good night's sleep. He stood up, took his clothes off and dived.

The water was cold, but it felt good on his skin. He had been a swimming champion way back in grade school—sports definitely were his thing. He swam to the edge of the pool as he finally felt the cold and exhaustion seep into his bones. He breathed deeply and leaned his chin against the cold surface. It was then that he felt eyes on him, and, although it was highly unlikely that the maid had been spying on him, Ryou nevertheless raised his head.

And he was met with a vision of a blue-haired, beautiful lady, who in turn smiled at him sweetly.

"Your father had trouble at the company, so we rushed home. I'm sorry I didn't get to inform you earlier. How are you doing, Len?"

Tsuchiura Ryoutarou gaped at Hamai Misa blankly, his mouth hanging open.

—

"Dammit! You said they weren't supposed to come home until next month! They caught me off-guard! Can you imagine how stupid I felt while they were talking to me? I didn't even know what to say! I felt rude and stupid and I was nodding all the time. Damnit. It was embarrassing! And your mother saw me practically half-naked! Tsukimori!"

Ryou had blasted head-on without even pausing for breath. His face was a delicate shade of purple, with a hint of a throbbing vein in his temple. He just _had_ to get that out, he'd decided.

"Are you always this stupid or are you making a special effort today?" Len asked in irritation. "You said it yourself—there had been trouble at the company. Even _I _couldn't have foreseen that."

"Shut up—I don't know how I got through that one night! They kept on asking me questions—they had been asking how I was doing with my violin practices! And I had to _lie!_ Tch. It was horrible."

"You keep on complaining," Len snapped impatiently. "Would you explain why I get hit in the head every time I try to open my mouth to speak?"

Ryou chuckled unexpectedly.

"Ah, oneechan. She's been like that since we were little. It's a habit she can't get rid off."

"No wonder your brain's all muddled up."

"How dare you—"

"—here's the violin. Hand it back before you head home."

"Stop bossing me around."

Tsukimori Len shrugged as he stepped out of the place. What an idiot.

—

Lili grinned at the sight of the boys. He had been following their progress closely. So far, so good. The fact that they had taken the matter calmly, no violence involved, surprised the mischievous fairy. He wanted to know how far they would go. He grinned even more widely. _'Now this,' _he thought as he waved his wand about, _'is going to be exciting.'_

—


	5. The Eavesdropper

"Did you hear?"

"The Music Department student Tsukimori Len defended Hino Kahoko from his classmates!"

"Tsukimori who?"

"The concours champion, who else?"

"Hamai Misa's son."

"Wait, what?"

—

**Chapter Five - The Eavesdropper**

Tsuchiura Ryoutarou stood up and uneasily faced the plain, full-length mirror. He still felt quite uneasy with the tailored trousers, too used as he was with the usual length of his pants. He tightened the tie around his neck, pulled on the thin and the wide end from the base, then flipped the collar of his dress shirt over the tie. He reached out inside the cabinet, pulled out the Western-inspired uniform with the gleaming Seiso Academy crest, sighed, and shrugged his way into it.

He highly doubted that under normal circumstances he would have agreed to don the white immaculate blazer if someone paid him for the privilege. With another troubled sigh he stared at the reflection in the mirror and ran a hand through the cerulean hair. _Unbelievable._

Ryou shook his head and glanced at the dresser mirror. It was time to leave.

—

At seven in the morning Seiso Academy already was teeming with life. Ryou snaked through the chattering groups of students and made his way up the third level of the Music Department Building. He dodged the awestruck first years who had shamelessly gaped at him even as they nervously clutched their instruments. He strode stiffly to the end of the hallway, took a deep breath and entered the classroom.

"—yeah, right. Yunoki-sama's too perfect. I don't think I can handle the pressure of being a Yunoki mistress, anyway."

"Bah, Yunoki mistress. As if he would even care to spare you anything more than a fleeting glance."

"Oh, do shut up. Anyway, cello guy's too cutesy for my taste."

"Mmm. How about the Gen-Ed guy, Tsuchiura?"

"Wah! He's the one I've been telling you about! Isn't he dreamy?"

"Oooh, Kana and I saw him jogging around the gym sometime last week. Gorgeous build, I'm telling you."

"So what is a talented and good-looking guy like him doing in the General Education Department?"

Ryou's ears perked up at the mention of his name and he slid closer to the girls, pretending to examine the books stacked above a nearby table. Good-looking, huh. A vision of the violinist holding hands with one of the Music Department girls clouded his head; he was barely able to hold his laughter in. Ahaha. Tsukimori Len must die.

"I heard he's been dating a Gen-Ed girl, though. You know, the concours participant."

"Eh! Uso! She's not even pretty!"

"Not that talented, I might add. Because of her, the quality of the concours had dropped considerably. Ambitious Gen-Ed student."

"Hahaha."

Ryou's eyebrows twitched as he sudden lost interest in the stupid conversation. Mean girls. He straightened up, smoothed his uniform down and arrogantly approached the direction of their table.

"Excuse me."

"Huh—T-Tsukimori-kun?"

"Hino-san did her best during the entire course of the competition. The fact that she got selected to participate says a lot, and I'm saying it now, if it happened to escape your knowledge. I seriously don't know what is wrong with you people."

He turned on his heel and stormed to his desk. The rest of his classmates stared at him, open-mouth and shocked with disbelief. Unable to stop himself, he frowned and slammed his bag on the table.

Tsukimori or not, he is definitely _not_ thinking of dating Music Department girls.

—

"Did you hear?"

"The Music Department student Tsukimori Len defended Hino Kahoko from his classmates!"

"Tsukimori who?"

"The concours champion, who else?"

"Hamai Misa's son."

"Wait, what?"

Tsukimori Len raised his head from his notations and briefly turned to look around him. Did someone just say 'Tsukimori?' He shot an irritated glance at the useless hubbub of Tsuchiura's classmates. The girl with the unnaturally large front teeth just two seats away from him continued with her morning gossip, surrounded by eager ears.

"Yeah. Gossip says evil girls from the Music Department said hurtful things about our Hino-san here. Tsukimori-kun reportedly stormed over to their table and told them off. He'd said Hino-san did her best, blah blah blah. You know, mushy stuff."

"Whoa, whoa, really, huh."

"He must like Hino-san then!"

"You think so?"

"Duh."

"Gosh. This is a serious improvement. Don't you guys think that maybe something _special_ happened during the competition and—"

The pencil on his hand threatened to snap, and Len reluctantly slackened his grip. Tsuchiura and his big, big mouth. He closed his eyes as he summoned self-control, alternately counting from one to ten and calming himself through deep breathing. Traded bodies for only a few days, and his reputation was already tumbling around him like melted ice. The irony was not lost on him. Give the guy a week, and maybe Len would then be forced to commit seppuku. He methodically collected each page and placed them inside his clear folder; he was too distracted to even think of resuming his work.

Brainless.

He had known that every person is entitled to be stupid, but Tsuchiura sure is abusing the privilege. He felt more and more irritated by the minute. The situation was taking them nowhere, and the sad truth is that Len is nowhere close to the solution than he had a week ago. Frustration was his enemy, but he knew that nothing came out of being unproductive anyway.

The lunch bell finally rang after three long periods; Len hastened to gather his things up and strode out of the classroom. He intended to make things clear with the stupid pianist as soon as possible. If _he _were to play the part, he might as well act it out all the way. Going so far to defend Hino—it was the stupidest thing, really.

The gossip about 'Tsukimori' and Hino had already spread like wildfire among the whispering students grouped together at the corridors, the hallways, and even on the benches that lined the way to the canteen. The news kept changing content as it passed from student to student, ranging from plain unbelievable to outright incredulous, until he heard one that made him freeze on his tracks. _Tsukimori-kun confessed to Hino-san! _He resisted the urge to curse and instead rushed out of the building into the crowded canteen.

His eyes swept over the people lined up with large trays on their hands and eventually focused on the ones already seated on the tables. Len spotted Shimizu seated alone on a table large enough for six people, his hands folded underneath his chin, apparently asleep. The boys from Soccer Club, particularly Sasaki, had already spotted him and were waving hands frantically for him to join them. They were pointedly ignored. He faced the left wing of the canteen and his head throbbed at the sight of Amou the annoying journalist talking with the equally annoying redhead that had been causing his most recent troubles.

His patience was running out, and he half-closed his eyes as he mentally counted—_five, four, three, two, one..._

The pianist appeared at the entrance of the canteen, accompanied by Hihara-senpai and Kanazawa-sensei. Len sighed. There couldn't possibly have been a more irritating trio. At the sight of him, Tsuchiura excused himself from company and approached Len.

"Tsukimori. Problem?"

His eyebrows twitched. How dare Tsuchiura ask what the problem was. He exhaled loudly and said, "I do not know what makes you so stupid but it really works."

"What?"

"I cannot gauge how you can be so emotional about everything. Hino is _none _of your business. Not mine, either, for the record."

"Hino? What—"

"—if you were twice as smart as you are now, you'd be absolutely stupid. To these people," he briefly gestured to the crowd going about their own business around them, "you _are _Tsukimori Len. Keep that in mind."

Tsuchiura Ryoutarou exhaled in disbelief as he watched his arch-enemy walk out of the place, _Tch. _Walk-out king. His argument was logical enough, but nevertheless he felt a pang of irritation at having been treated like a child. Hihara-senpai had already managed to buy them lunch, and so Ryou shook his head and headed to their table.

—

Tsukimori Len stared at the food in front of him; seaweed and very small fish stewed in what seemed like sweetened soy. He was sure he hadn't eaten it before. At the prompting look of Tsuchiura's mother, however, he decided to partake.

"Itadakimasu."

The food tasted strangely delicious. He filled his bowl with sumashijiru, a clear soup made with dashi and seafood. Len kept silent through all the teasing and laughing at the stories told during the entire course of the meal. Strangely enough, he felt happy. It was a welcome change to hear of Tsuchiura's siblings' everyday struggles—how seeing her crush made Narita's day, how Kenji triumphed on a Math quiz—all of it felt somewhat refreshing. He felt slightly envious of Tsuchiura's family. He wished his were like theirs, too, but the implications made him immediately banish the thought from his head.

"Oniichan," said Kenji, Tsuchiura's little brother. Len raised his eyebrows and lowered his cup of tea.

"Yes?"

"Will you help me with my homework tonight?"

"Kenji," his mother scolded, "you know how busy your brother is. You shouldn't bother him—he's got stuff to work on. I'll help you instead—"

"—no, it's alright with me," interrupted Len. He was taken aback at his own reaction. "I…have a spare time," he added softly.

"Really? Yay!" the boy grinned widely. "Haha! Whoops!" he swiped a piece of sushi from Len's plate, popped it into his mouth and grinned. Len allowed himself a small smile and pushed the plate towards the boy. "Here."

"I told you, Mom, he's really sick," chimed in the sister. "I never thought I'd live to see the day when Ryou would share his temaki."

"Rare display of brotherly affection," chuckled Tsuchiura mother. "Alright, kids, wrap up! It's getting late—no, Kenji, no TV, it's a weekday. Don't forget to brush your teeth. And finish your assignment, please. I don't want to hear you rushing to get things done at five in the morning. Ryou, give the piano a break, please, I'm begging you. I've heard enough to last me a lifetime already. Narita, you know what to do, no, don't argue with me—"

Tsukimori Len didn't, and hardly, missed anything. He didn't miss moments where conversation mattered—_truly_ mattered; where conversation made people smile and think before they go to bed. No, he couldn't have cared less. He didn't waste time on anyone, even someone considered meaningful; even those quiet moments. Always forward, he goes. He had long ago ceased to depend on people to be there for him. At the end of the day, he had no one but himself to count on. He learned to deal.

He stood up and thanked Ryou's mother for the meal. The elderly woman, surprised as she was, drew him in for a hug.

Who was he kidding?

It was then that he realized that he did miss something. Someone.

His mother.

—

"Welcome home, Len."

Ryou froze on his tracks and slowly turned towards the general direction of the couch. Hamai Misa looked really beautiful in a light yellow dress, her hair tucked neatly behind her ears. She sipped on her tea with an easy smile on her face and beckoned him forward. He gulped. Star-struck as he always was with the famous pianist, he bowed deeply.

"T-Thank you, M-m-mother."

She chuckled. "Why, Len, you seem nervous. Do you have a moment? Why don't you come and join me for a cup of tea?"

"O-of course! Certainly!"

Ryou seated himself meekly on the couch to her right and reached out for the porcelain teapot. He would have preferred coffee, but tea will have to do. He tried to calm his nerves with every sip of the bitter liquid and tried really hard not to stare.

"I will be having another charity concert, Len. Do you want to play with me again?"

_'Huh?' _

Alarmed, he blurted out, "Ah—no—er—we're kinda busy—I mean—exams—"

"I figured just as much," she replied with a small smile. "It's alright, academics would still be your priorities at this time, after all. But I had been thinking, maybe you would like to invite your friends to come along? You could all watch together."

"Friends?"

"Why, your fellow concours participants."

Ryou shrugged nonchalantly. Fair enough, although he would have gladly left Tsukimori out. He was always one to ruin the moment with his icy attitude and the-hell-i-care personality. But of course, given that his own mother would be performing, he should come and watch her on stage.

"That is a good idea," he agreed, and he sipped on his tea distractedly as he tried to think of ways to approach the others and invite them to come. He thought about handing the invitations to Hihara-senpai instead. Great. He would be more than glad to distribute them.

"You will be inviting Hino Kahoko personally?"

"Huh?"

"Hino Kahoko," she repeated, as if it couldn't have been more obvious, "the girl who played the violin."

"Huh—uh—yes."

"Be sure to ask her to come along, Len."

Ryou frowned. Why would Hamai Misa-sama insist on having Tsukimori invite Hino to come to the concert, anyway? It wasn't like they were close enough to be considered friends. Weird. He displaced the thought from his head and placed the cup back to its saucer on the table. "If you don't mind, can I go upstairs to my room?"

"Yes. Good night."

"Good night."

—

Hamai Misa sighed as she set her cup back to the table. Her gaze followed her son's back out of the room. She had been a terrible mother—she had always known that—but still, she never ceased to hope that someday, Len would learn how to love. She often wondered how she could have let her son live his life like it's on autopilot—he never had real friends, he never smiled, never went out for a good time. But the music she heard at his school's auditorium gave her heart. Maybe, slowly, he'll realize that he can't live like the world's out to get him or break into pieces. It would be his lesson to learn.

She stood up and walked gracefully towards the open window. She silently thanked the girl who had opened her son's heart. He might not realize it yet, but Misa hoped for her son's happiness that when he does, he would do the right thing. Things, after all, no matter how unpredictable, still turn out quite favorable in the end. Things just have a way of balancing themselves out.

"Just learn to pick yourself up when you stumble along the way..." she whispered almost inaudibly.

Feeling slightly better, she picked the tray up from the table and walked out of the living room.

—


	6. Shimizu's Dead!

"Hoo, stop picking on me," the trumpet-player complained. "Kanayan, this is a general question. How would you ask a girl out?"

"That's a vague subject," replied Hiroto lazily. "At any rate, the teacher can't talk until he's fed. He can't think straight, you see."

"His mind works like lightning," supplied Tsukimori, back for revenge, his tone almost joking. "One brilliant flash and it's gone."

"Bwahahahaha!"

—

**Chapter Six - Shimizu's Dead!**

"Is it me, or are we lost?"

It was Hihara Kazuki who first voiced out his fears. The others grunted in agreement. The party had expected to arrive at Ookawa Cottage shortly after lunch, but a quick glance at her wristwatch showed Kahoko a good twenty-three minutes past five in the afternoon. She let out a nervous chuckle.

"Um, Kanazawa-sensei, are you sure we were meant to drive to Osaka? I thought I heard you mention something about Kyushu before."

"Wasn't it Kansai?"

"Tch."

"Quiet—Quiet!" interjected the teacher lazily, swiveling from his position on the front of the van. "Don't you guys worry. I'm sure it's in Osaka. Stop arguing with me—I've been to the place several times already."

"Humph. 'Honestly doesn't look like it."

"Anyway, the map says we should be driving north. Where do you supposed we're headed, sensei?"

"Just shut up, will you guys?"

"But Kanayaaaaaaan! If you're confused we should stop and ask for directions. It's getting darker outside. We can't sleep in this van! And I'm hungry! Can't we just pull over for a while and buy something to eat?"

"Shut up," muttered Kanazawa-sensei, who looked pissed, to a point. "If things get worse I'll have to ask you to stop helping me."

"Who's helping who?"

"Tch."

"S-s-sensei..."

"Yunoki-senpai suggested that we head this way. But didn't we pass by this road earlier? We're going in circles!"

"I did not suggest anything of that sort."

"Oi, Tsuchiura, distracted much?"

"..."

"He isn't even making _any_ attempts at helping here. I'm impressed and surprised at the same time that he's letting his mind wander."

"Why's that?"

"I think it's far too small to be let out on its own."

"_I_ should be one to get impressed. I have never met such a small mind inside such a big head before."

"Shimizu's dead!"

"SHUT UP!"

"Hey, it's beginning to snow!"

"Kanayan, I'm starving already! Let's just find someplace to eat!"

"Shut up, shut up—ah—there goes Maehara-san!" declared Kanazawa-sensei triumphantly. "I told you it's this way. I can see the driveway from here."

"Stupid teacher."

Kanazawa-sensei chortled at the muttered remark and he focused on the wheel. The porch light made a welcome beam in the semi-darkness as they eventually turned into the entrance to the cottage. An man in his early fifties loped towards the van, opened the door and squinted at the teacher on the driver's seat.

"Ah, Hiroto. I was thinking of calling the police. Whatever happened? Your arrival has been delayed for almost five hours! You would have to phone Director Akihiko later. Wait—stay where you are and I'll open the garage for you. You can drive straight in."

"'Hadn't been using his head, that's why."

Kanazawa ignored his students and signaled at Maehara-san in acknowledgment instead. The older man closed the door to the van and headed for the double-studded door adjacent to the house. He opened the gate and signaled the teacher in as he backed against a privet bush, out of the way of the glare of the headlights. Kanazawa pulled up with ample room to spare, and everyone hoisted their suitcases out of the back, glad to be out of the hot, noisy, cluttered van. They followed Maehara-san up the porch steps—the door to the house stood invitingly open and an appetizing smell wafted through.

"It's my sister's way of welcoming us home," said Maehara-san as they all sniffed appreciatively. "I should warn you, though. She might present a stern exterior to the world generally, but her heart is in the right place." He extended a hand and smacked Kanazawa on the back of the head as he snorted. "Everyone, welcome to Ookawa Cottage. I do hope you would get to enjoy your stay here."

The students murmured their and thanks and appreciation and Maehara-san stuck his head back through the door. "They're here, Kimiko!"

They turned as a small woman appeared from a door at the end of the hall.

"Another half hour and your dinner would have been spoilt," she regarded them grimly. Fuyuumi trembled and hid behind Kahoko; the rest of the group, with the exception of Kanazawa-sensei and Yunoki-senpai, looked taken aback.

"Kimiko, don't scare the children." He smiled at them warmly. "Alright, this way, please."

All of them followed the seniors tentatively. The housekeeper's straight, dark stare had a way of seeming disapproving under the old fashioned, screwed-back bun that bristled with large black hairpins. Her black dress gave her a formidable appearance that was accentuated by her skeletal frame and height. Altogether, Kimiko-san was a presence.

"Come along with me, I'll show you to your rooms," she commanded sternly as she turned towards the stairs. "Get your hands washed before dinner, too. I will be serving it up at exactly eight o'clock. You were late; now I would have to heat it up again," she added grudgingly.

The house that had been designated 'cottage' boasted seven good-sized bedrooms and three modern practice rooms. Kahoko and Fuyuumi shared rooms as usual; Tsuchiura-kun and Yunoki-senpai on one, Tsukimori-kun and Shimizu-kun on the other and Kanazawa-sensei had agreed to share his room with Hihara-senpai.

Fuyuumi sat on the edge of the bed; her expression was that of a young girl after having been forced to watch a horror movie alone.

"K-Kaho-senpai…I'm afraid of K-kimiko-san," she confided and twined her fingers distractedly.

Kahoko was sure all of them shared the same sentiment, except, perhaps, for her and Yunoki-senpai. She had a formidable grandmother in the country that her family visited during the holidays, and Yunoki-senpai's okaasama wasn't exactly amiable. She chuckled.

"She scares me as well. But—well, we only have to put up with her during meal times, right?"

"T-that's three times a day, K-Kaho-senpai," she stuttered.

"Yay, you're right! But let's worry about that later. We should fix our things first, Fuyuumi-chan. We don't want to be late for dinner, do we?"

"Y-yes..."

The girls quickly showered, replaced their things on the medium-sized closet, got dressed for dinner and headed down the dining room. They stopped short as Kimiko-san appeared silently through the door, her soft shoes giving out no sound in the thick carpet and her funeral clothing making her seem to materialize from the shadows rather than enter the room like a living person. Kahoko chuckled as she saw Fuyuumi start, and then chided herself for being uncharitable.

"You're early. Since you're here—you might as well help me prepare dinner. I trust you lasses had been taught how to move in the kitchen?"

"Ah—er—"

The housekeeper's piercing dark eyes raked them staidly.

"Don't waste time stuttering on the doorway. Hurry and get started."

—

Kanazawa Hiroto gathered discarded twigs for the night's bonfire. He filled his arms with dried leaves and headed to the yard where his students had gathered around the bright flame of the hissing logs. The girls were inside the house, assisting the housekeeper with preparations for dinner. He hoped for their sake they were doing well on their task. He had known Kimiko-san as a boy, and he knew she did not suffer fools gladly.

"Hoho! Bonfire! Bonfire!" chanted Hihara happily, his face glowing against the crackling fire. The boy's a positive presence. The only downside of his personality was that he's easily affected emotionally. _'Unlike Ice Cube here,'_ he thought ruefully and shot Tsukimori a furtive glance. He was seated on the farther side of the fire, away from the others as he stared distractedly at the trees. Tsukimori, the cold-hearted perfectionist. Cold-hearted, huh.

Kanazawa frowned as he spotted Shimizu napping, his head placed in between his knees. He wondered how a guy can sleep undisturbed amid all the shouting and fighting all the way from Tokyo to Osaka and still manage to get some sleep upon arrival at the destination. Still frowning, he tapped the blonde sophomore's shoulder.

"Oi, Shimizu. Wear your jacket, will you? You'll catch a cold."

"A-ah…I'm sorry, sensei…"

Yunoki held his hands close to the fire for warmth. Long hair kid had been the only sane person inside the van, good-naturedly helping him with the map and directions. Tsuchiura, on the other hand, opted to sit alone on a single log while he worked on his notations. The boy had been acting really strange lately; he seemed withdrawn and more reserved than usual. He snapped at almost everything. Kanazawa shook his head. _'Why bother with other people's business?'_

"Kanayan!"

"Oi, Hihara."

The boy settled on the log across him. He raised an eyebrow.

"Um, Kanayan. I need your help."

"It's okay, so long as you're not asking for financial assistance."

"No, no, actually, there's this girl—"

"Aha!" he stubbed his forefinger at the trumpet-player. "It's a girl problem! Why are you asking me?"

"Well—because you're older, Kanayan, and hopefully you've got experience—"

"You don't have to emphasize the word _older, _you know."

"It's true, sensei…"

"Get back to sleep, Shimizu. Humph. Who's this girl, anyway?"

"Waaah, Kanayan!" wailed Hihara. "It's confidential!"

Kanazawa laughed at him. It was easy to see how the boy felt; his feelings were written plainly on his face for even the most unobservant to see, but Hino's feelings were not so obvious. _'Wonder who's going to win in the end,' _he thought.

"Alright, I won't ask!" he said instead, "What did you want to know in particular?"

"Well—you see—she doesn't know about—"

"Are you sure you want to disclose those facts with present company?"

Hihara seemed to think twice and frowned.

"Alright, later then." He looked around distractedly. "Mou, Tsukimori, are you alright? What's eating you?"

Tsuchiura raised his head from his scores and snapped, "Whatever it is that is eating him, it must be suffering horribly."

"Ahahaha."

Kanazawa chuckled. He loved listening to the two outwit each other. Sure enough, Tsukimori spat back.

"You grow on people, but so does cancer. What, insult me again?"

"I would have loved to," replied Tsuchiura, "but the sad truth is that you wouldn't understand me."

"Oh, shut up."

"I'm working on it."

"If you call that hard work, a koala's life would look heroic. Mind your own business, will you."

Tsuchiura sighed. "Before giving someone a piece of your mind, remember to leave a little something for yourself."

Hihara roared with laughter.

"Ahaha, he got you there, didn't he, Tsukimori?"

Bluehead frowned and turned his back on them.

"If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong. Huh."

"Hoo, stop picking on me," the trumpet-player complained. "Kanayan, this is a general question. How would you ask a girl out?"

"That's a vague subject," replied Hiroto lazily. "At any rate, the teacher can't talk until he's fed. He can't think straight, you see."

"His mind works like lightning," supplied Tsukimori, back for revenge, his tone almost joking. "One brilliant flash and it's gone."

"Bwahahahaha!"

"Mwehehe."

"Shut up," snapped Kanazawa in defeat as he shook his head. The kids have lots of potential,but they seem to have been so busy wrapping themselves in their own little worlds that they're actually neglecting to live their own lives. _'And they say we're only young once...'_

"Kanayan," pleaded Hihara after a while. "Promise me you'll tell me what you know after dinner."

"Loser. Alright, after dinner."

"Kanazawa-sensei," interrupted Yunoki, who had already gotten up, "I can hear Kimiko-san calling for us."

"Wooo, finally!"

"Okay, boys, get up!"

"Kanayan! Your promise!"

"I said after dinner. I didn't say after dinner tonight."

"KANAYAAAAAN!"

"Do you want to bring the house down, dummy? Keep it down!"

"I hate you!"

"Hn. What a troubled youth. You know, Hihara, you remind me when I was young and stupid."

"Hehehe."

"Kanayan!"

—


	7. The Toilet

Tsuchiura Ryoutarou exhaled in desperation. "Tsukimori! Hihara-senpai asked her out for a walk!"

'_Damn. Now why did I tell him that?'_

"I don't see how that concerns me."

"You're rude, you know that?"

"I'm not. You're just plain insignificant. Now step aside."

—

**Chapter Seven - The Toilet**

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	8. The Incorruptible Virgin

"What's this all about, Yunoki-senpai?"

He chuckled and ran a hand through his silky hair.

"Well, I've decided to start my day with the consort of an incorruptible virgin."

Kahoko's face flushed the deepest shade of red. The nerve of this guy to declare something so vulgar! He laughed harder and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Kahoko crossed her arms in front of her chest and retorted, "How do you know I'm—well—incorruptible?"

"By me you are," he said simply. "I ought to know. I've tried enough times."

—

**Chapter Eight - The Incorruptible Virgin**

Tsukimori Len lowered the violin from his chin and sighed. The raging wind quickly took away the music he produced, but it did not stop him from playing with all the power he could muster. On the riverside he stood, shivering against the cold night wind. Around him, serene emeralds splashed against the jagged rocks like the fresh water that sprayed the damp leaves. The great sheets of water flowed through the valley floor, making a paradise for the wild fowl that flighted each night from the high down land to rest in safety among its flanking reeds. Even the water, fed by the river, looked riffled by the bitter, hurtling wind.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes in dismay. He was beginning to really worry about both his and Tsuchiura's current situation; surely whatever it was that had happened to them was bound to end at some point? Sure he prided himself on staying calm and logical even in the most daunting of situations, but the mere thought of never getting his old life back was beginning to chip away on the solidity of his calm. He tried to tune his worries out and once again raised the violin against his chin. Again and again he played the piece he deemed fit for the Training Camp's theme—again and again he dropped the bow in frustration. _Change. _What should be the correct interpretation of the word? A profound transformation? Awakening of some sort? What, metanoia?

Finally he decided to play Mendelssohn's Concerto—wondrously lyrical, every theme splendidly and expertly structured. He skillfully played the single cadenza in every moment; his bowing firm, his fingers swift and nimble even in the most daunting passages, the melody line always surfacing.

A strong gust of wind blew his hair against his face, and he was once again reminded of his growing worries. He bent down, strapped his instrument securely inside its case, for it was quite clear to him that there was no point in trying to rehearse now that his concentration has been ruined. He traipsed up the woods to the path that led back to the cottage. The porch light made a welcome beam in the darkness as he turned eventually into the cottage gate. He felt somehow relieved to find the backdoor open; he must remember to thank the housekeeper first thing in the morning. He slipped into the kitchen, closed and locked the door behind him quietly, and headed straight out of the kitchen into the living room.

He glanced at the wall clock and found it pointed to twelve minutes past the hour of one in the morning. On his way to the stairs he passed by a slumped figure against one of the chairs. He did a double take and looked back, the fire on the logs dying out. Hino Kahoko slumbered peacefully, unaware of the seeping cold around her. He frowned, stepped closer and tried tapping her into consciousness.

"Hino."

She stirred and her hand came up to rest on her chest. Her blistered fingers wasn't lost on Len, and as she turned her cheek away, he thought her delicate bone structure looked almost ethereal in the flickering light.

"Hino. Wake up. You shouldn't—"

"Hmmm," she mumbled, "Tsukimori-kun—"

Surprise made his hand withdraw from her sleeping form with more haste than dignity. He stiffened with the now familiar vexation that she should have the power to disconcert him. He frowned, leaned away, and spoke as softly and as clearly as he could. "Hino?"

"Noooo—it's not—I'm sorry, Tsukimori-kun, I—I'll do it right this time—"

His face softened at her words. Had he been so hard on her that his icy treatment followed her in dreams? Bothered by sudden guilt, he laid his violin case down the richly colored carpet as he made a choice. He slid his arms under her knees and under her shoulders, taking care not to wake her up. He straightened up, feeling the full impact of her weight. Very carefully he felt his way up the stairs, and, upon reaching the hall, hesitated outside her bedroom door. He struggled with the knob with her in his arms and entered the room cautiously—waking Fuyuumi up was another complication he didn't need, and so he laid Hino down the bed.

Up until now he had only spoken to her when needed and passed on—she might as well have been part of the wall for all the notice he took of her. Their contact had been purely music-related—he played it out like there weren't anything more than being fellow concours participants. He knew he didn't have to, but then again, he felt like he had to.

"Hn…Tsukimori-kun…"

Had she woken up? He looked back in alarm and saw her clutching at the bed covers. Maybe she was feeling cold. With another sigh he reached out for a soft blanket above her head and drew it across her sleeping form. He stared at her for a moment as he tried to clear his head.

He wouldn't know, though, that he would be walking out of the room sans his heart.

—

"Hmm…Did we leave anything out? Boiled eggs, surimi, konnyaku, fish cakes…"

"…daikon radish," Fuyuumi added and Hino Kahoko scratched her head as she added the final ingredients into the steaming pot. It was the fifth day of the practice camp, and Kimiko-san had taught the girls how to cook oden, a nabemono stewed in a light, soy-flavored dashi broth.

"It smells really good, Kaho-senpai…"

"Yeah, we made a decent job afterall. Keh."

The cyan-haired girl smiled back, happy with the result of their effort. Kahoko reached out and patted her hand. She wondered how a really beautiful, talented girl could be so shy, so hesitant and easily intimidated.

"I used to think steamboat cooking was troublesome," she continued. "It's actually a good experience."

Fuyuumi smiled and sprinkled aonori, an edible green seaweed, on top of the ingredients.

"Isn't this the Shizuoka version, Kaho-senpai? I thought I heard Kimiko-san say so…"

"Ehehe, I'm not sure," Kahoko replied. "Tastes like a combination from Shizuoka and Nagoya."

"Oh."

"Good morning, Hino-san, Fuyuumi-san."

The girls turned and found Yunoki Azuma framed on the doorway, his long locks flowing gracefully about his shoulders.

"G-good morning, Y-Yunoki-senpai…" stuttered Fuyuumi. Kahoko greeted him back politely, though she was slightly unnerved by the pleasant smile on his face. What could he be doing in the kitchen so early in the morning?

"I caught a whiff of something good," he explained. "Anyway, it's still quite early. Would you like to mosey up to the woods beyond the greenhouse? I'll race you, Hino-san, what do you say?"

Kahoko fought the urge to wince and replied as warmly as she could. "I'd like to, Yunoki-senpai, but Fuyuumi-chan and I were asked to prepare food for breakfast…" It seemed an okay enough alibi.

"Ah, Kaho-senpai, it's okay, I-I'll look after the food, you don't have to w-worry…"

_'Eh?'_

"That is very sweet of you, Fuyuumi-san," chuckled Yunoki. "You are so cute."

Fuyuumi blushed like crazy, and Kahoko almost laughed at the expression on her face as she stammered, "T-t-thank you, Y-Yunoki-senpai…"

"Well, Hino-san?"

_'Like he would take 'no' for an answer,' _thought Kahoko. Nevertheless, she stood up from where she sat and stretched her sore limbs. She waved at Fuyuumi as she followed him out of the kitchen and through the backdoor.

"What's this all about, Yunoki-senpai?"

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

"Well, I have decided to start my day with the consort of an incorruptible virgin."

Kahoko's face flushed the deepest shade of red. How could he declare something so vulgar! He laughed even harder and tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and retorted, "How do you know I'm—well—incorruptible?"

"By me you are," he said simply. "I've tried enough times."

"I resent that," said Kahoko in a rather grim tone. She glanced at him, and, seeing his face lit up in a genuine smile, she laughed, and then he laughed, too.

"I like seeing you happy, Yunoki-senpai. It's such a welcome change."

"Thank you."

They skirted a big glasshouse whose panes cast into the bright air a firework of sparks, and went on across a carpet of dead grass toward a noble stand of evergreens.

"You implied that I am different when I am happy," he added after a while.

"You certainly are."

"I have been feeling different this morning, and I couldn't figure it. Seeing you now, I think I can. It's because I'm responding to a fresh stimulus. You, Kahoko. It's you who spell the difference."

"Eh? Me?"

He smiled. "Before this I've gone through battlefield maneuvers with you, but I didn't actually notice you. Do you know what I mean?"

"I'm getting a clue," she said warily.

"But now I am. I mean I am noticing you, Kaho. In the aggregate, as it were, not merely here and there. Am I communicating? What does it mean?"

"It means you're bored, and you've decided to make a little time to while away your boredom."

He leaned closer until his face was inches from Kahoko's own.

"Really, Kahoko. Are you really this dense?"

"KAHO-CHAN! YUNOKI! TSUCHIURA! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS? TIME FOR BREAKFAST!" called Hihara, his voice echoing on the vast, empty greenery. Relieved at the sudden interruption, she inched away from her senior. He made no effort to hide his disappointment, but as he continued to chuckle as she followed him back to the cottage, Kahoko had a feeling that her troubles with him were far from over.

—

Quite exhausted and feeling bad about herself, Hino Kahoko sat on a log outside the cottage. The late afternoon fog seeped through the thick wool of her jacket as she stared distractedly at the green of the trees and the grass around her. The place was silent, save for several exuberantly huffed trumpet notes that managed to escape the open windows of one of the practice rooms.

Everyone had been incredibly progressive and was getting better by the day. Even Fuyuumi had finally completed her chosen piece, and it made Kahoko feel a tad bit sorry for herself. Her body ached from practicing the whole morning off, and she couldn't help but feel that pain would be the only thing she was bound to get for the entire duration of the camp.

She kind of missed having Tsukimori's help, but she knew that asking for what little time he spends from his own practices would be anything but selfish. Besides, at the end of the day, she had no one but herself to count on. She knew that she ought to practice more, but then decided that maybe a bit of fresh air would help clear her mind. She hummed lightly to herself and stood up to tuck the bright scarf more closely into the collar of her coat. She marveled at the trees and all that went with them—the birds, the solitude, the myriad sights and the sounds of semi-wilderness.

She walked past the potting shed, stepped through a screen of short trees to a sturdy wooden gate and pushed past the hedge that rustled dead leaves against her coat. She eyed the path downhill across the grassland to where a thin line of track showed faintly darker than the rest of the surroundings.

The country ahead of her was empty of life as far as the slope of a hill half a mile away. She followed the deeply flowing river to within a foot of its edge. Impelled by the magnetism of water, Kahoko stopped to watch the current, fascinated as she always was by the ceaseless conversation of the rover. A rustle of leaves made her jump. She turned around nervously and found Tsuchiura Ryoutarou brushing leaves off his coat. She let out a relieved chortle, and he quickly looked up at the sound.

"Whew, you scared me, Tsuchiura-kun."

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh—Shimizu-kun mentioned something about the river earlier. I was practicing outside anyway, so I decided to take a look. How about you?" she eyed him curiously and then she frowned. "Tsuchiura-kun…Is that…Is that Tsukimori-kun's violin case?"

His face turned pale, but didn't say anything.

"Tsuchiura-kun?"

The sound of loud splashing and some indignant squawks turned her feet towards the water's edge. Kahoko watched, fascinated, while a couple of birds settled an argument between them. She turned to find him sitting on a rock, the violin case cradled on his lap.

"You're not planning on burying it, are you, Tsuchiura-kun? You're not gonna let it float down the river or something?"

He frowned, as if appalled by the mere thought of it. "No."

Her face brightened a little and she smiled. "You should return the violin to him, Tsuchiura-kun. Did you know that he loves his violin?"

"Is that so?"

"Well—he did tell me that my violin is the only thing of its kind in the world. I'm guessing that works for him, too."

"I see."

Her eyes raked the sky and she felt a thrill run through her as she made out a distant V-shaped wedge outlined against the lighter heavens. Tsuchiura's voice sounded soft as he spoke.

"The geese are starting to come on. If you're not too cold, we'll stay and watch."

Kahoko hurried to join him by his rock. The wedge rapidly transformed itself into individual birds, approaching with low wing beats, their ponderous bodies and long, snake-like necks curiously graceful in flight. When they were almost overhead, the leader dipped towards the surface of the water. Tsuchiura and Kahoko had a close-up view as they circled and came in to land, each foot cleaving a fine line of spray that gleamed briefly, jewel-like, in the fading light. One by one, the birds settled, floating quietly, talking among themselves with small, contented murmuring. The air seemed full of the sigh of wings and the faint hissing splash as they water-skated to rest. With their arrival the wild, deserted place took on warmly peopled look, and Tsuchiura's voice sounded satisfied as he spoke.

"They're home."

He raised himself slowly away from the rock and helped her off the cold hardness of it. Kahoko shivered, suddenly glad at the prospect of a brisk walk back to the cottage.

"We'll make for home, too," he murmured. "You're cold. I shouldn't have kept you here so long."

His voice was concerned, and Kahoko shook her head emphatically.

"I'm glad I've stayed. I've…I've enjoyed it."

_'Enjoy seemed an inadequate word,' _she thought. The deep response of feeling had unexpectedly welled inside her at the sight of the wild flock and the satisfaction she knew that was shared by Tsuchiura from the quiet finality of his 'they're home.'

They walked quietly, side by side, until they finally reached the cottage. Tsuchiura helped her inside and she thanked him for the afternoon.

"Thank you, Tsuchiura-kun."

"Good night," was his polite reply. "Rest well."

Hino Kahoko entered the room she shared with Fuyuumi, her heart beating wildly. She felt an inexplicable strange, thrilling warmth that she had never felt before. She sighed and sat at the edge of the bed, a small smile on her face.

—


	9. Lord Ironpants

"Are you cold?"

"Yes, but I want to enjoy the snow a little longer."

"Thank you."

She frowned slightly.

"What for?"

Len decided to let himself go.

—

**Chapter Nine - Lord Ironpants**

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	10. The Boxers

"Will you introduce me your date, then? I would like to meet her."

"But—"

Hamai Misa stood up gracefully from where she sat, and Ryou bit back a sigh at her words.

"I am your mother, Len. I care about you more than you think."

—

**Chapter Ten - The Boxers**

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	11. SOLD!

Amou Nami looked around. A single hand waved into the air.

"Yes?"

"30,000 yen," the girl stated firmly. Nami's eyes bulged. It was Mori Manami.

"T-thirty thousand yen for Tsuchiura Ryoutarou-kun," she muttered to the crowd's uproar and obvious envy. "Anyone placing a higher bid? No one? Objections? Violent reactions? None? Alright then, SOLD!"

—

**Chapter Eleven - SOLD!**

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	12. Strawberry Ice Cream

"What are you talking about?" Len asked nonchalantly. Somehow, he had gotten used to having Sasaki bug him every school day.

"Oh, come on! You could at least tell me something about the date. Well—did you kiss?"

"We did not!" he stated indignantly. Stupid Sasaki.

"Touchy, touchy. Well then—are you disappointed that Hino did not bid for you?"

_Yes, very, thank you very much._

"That's plain rubbish. It's not like I am the tiniest bit interested."

—

**Chapter Twelve - Strawberry Ice Cream**

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	13. Middle School Tragedy

"Screw you!"

It was the Ice Cube's turn to frown. Ryou smirked, happy that somehow he'd managed to score a point.

"Take that back," said the violinist, his voice dangerously soft. Ryou stopped short and spun around to face him.

"What?"

He was really furious. Ryou cursed. He knew what would—and _could_—happen if he annoyed the Ice Cube—he had learned it the hard way—and Buchou would kill him if he failed to show up at tomorrow's soccer practice. Not that _he _wouldn't, but—

He cursed again.

"Take that back," Tsukimori repeated.

"Alright, alright, I take it back!" Ryou muttered hastily. "Unscrew you!"

—

**Chapter Thirteen - Middle School Tragedy**

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	14. Double Treat, Double Trouble

"You're sure she said 'Miyaji.'"

"Of course. What am I, deaf?"

"Perhaps. Who knows?"

"Shut up. I remember the daughter. The one at the Training Camp. You played a duet with her then, eh?"

Tsukimori ignored him.

"When are they coming to visit?"

"In three months."

"You brainless idiot."

—

**Chapter Fourteen - Double Treat, Double Trouble**

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	15. The Fallen

"That's terrible," frowned Yunoki-senpai. "What are you going to do with it, Kanazawa-sensei? Things would be hard without a translator."

"Akihiko panicked, of course, and wanted to contact another Uni student majoring in the German language within the vicinity. But then I remembered that Tsukimori here is fluent in both oral and written German, so I came here to inform him. Tsukimori, you do the translations tomorrow."

"WHAT?"

"Huh? Why are you so dumbfounded?"

"I can't possibly—"

"Why not?"

"Er—"

"Unless you plead temporary insanity, of course."

"No, but—"

"No buts, then. Kira is going to kill us all if we screw things up. I've to get going. I still need to take a shower and then I'll go inform the delegates of the changes. See you guys tomorrow. Tsukimori, I'm counting on you."

—

**Chapter Fifteen - The Fallen**

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	16. Half a Pill

"Oi."

"This is _my_ house."

Ryou frowned at him.

"Pour me a cup of tea."

"I'm not your lady in waiting."

"Why you—I'd call you a _tool_, but even _they _serve a purpose."

"Were you talking to yourself?" Tsukimori snapped as he handed Ryou the cup. "Mind you, are you renting the space in your head? It could be profitable."

—

**Chapter Sixteen - Half a Pill**

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	17. Confessions

"The problem with you is that you give up so easily."

"Ehh?"

"You'd never get anywhere if you don't start somewhere. Stand up," he commanded.

"Tsuchiura-kun?"

"Stand up." He reached out for the scores on top of her school bag, sorted and placed them on the music stand.

"If that's your attitude towards music—"

Her head snapped up and their eyes met for several seconds.

_Tsukimori-kun?_

—

**Chapter Seventeen - Confessions**

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	18. Feelings

"Ah, hai!" Hino called back, and she hastily bowed down. "Anou, Tsuchiura-kun…Thank you so much for…for helping me out every time."

He shrugged.

"One Gen-Ed student to another?"

Her face broke into a wide grin, and then she chuckled. "Yep! Thanks again, Tsuchiura-kun! I'll do my best!"

Len shook his head as he watched her trip over a music stand on her way to the strings group, and then he lowered his eyes as he noticed Mori-san looking intently at him.

_'Do your best, Hino.'_

—

**Chapter Eighteen - Feelings**

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	19. Stolen

"Well—Hino, do you want to dance?" asked Tsuchiura. Len's head snapped up automatically. The nerve of the guy—his eyes narrowed and he stood up impulsively, grabbed Hino's wrist and dragged her to the middle of the dance floor.

"W-wait—Tsuchiura-kun—"

He let go of her wrist and they stared awkwardly at each other. He mentally cursed himself. _'Now what?'_

—

**Chapter Nineteen - Stolen**

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	20. Lili

"...Actually...Lili…I…wanted to ask you something."

"Eh?"

"Did—" her cheeks burned, "Did you do anything..._naughty_ to Tsuchiura-kun and Tsukimori-kun?"

"Ehhh? Who?"

"My fellow concours participants—um, the blue-haired violinist and the green-haired pianist."

"Hah!" he replied pompously. "Are you accusing me of using my powers for evil deeds? I, Lili, who—" he paused, and then his small mouth formed a perfect O.

"Lili?"

—

**Chapter Twenty - Lili**

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	21. Bruise Almighty

"What's that?"

"Foundation."

"What _exactly _is that for?"

She smiled at him good-naturedly. "This—this would conceal your black eye. At least, temporarily. Make it less noticeable."

"You are _not _going to apply make-up on _me," _Ryou announced indignantly. "I would rather—_ack! _Why is it _wet?" _he complained loudly, for she had already dabbed the damp sponge on his right eye without warning. "Mori-san—"

"Keep still, Tsuchiura-kun!"

"Ow."

—

**Chapter Twenty-One - Bruise Almighty**

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**Under Revision 11/14/10**


	22. Orchestration

He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her so honestly she thought she would shatter.

"Hino. I love you so."

—

**Final Chapter - Orchestration  
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**End  
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**I hope you guys aren't annoyed with the final chapter spoiler. _Keh. _Hitoshii Kawase is being revised; do check out the first chapter. Comments are welcome, if you're so inclined. Thank you.**  
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